


Meet Your Match

by jadehqknb



Series: Ship Fics [16]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blow Jobs, Coach/Player Relationship, Hook-Up, M/M, Soft bondage, University AU, age gap, all aged up characters, and will be sexy as hell, attempt at power imbalance, but I think I lost my nerve, coach kuroo, featuring bokuto, featuring iwaizumi, featuring oikawa, featuring terushima, kuroo is in his thirties, meeting through an app, mention of ushijima, minor edging, nod to current iwabo, nod to past ushikuro, nod to possible OiTeru, player daichi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 14:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19889245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadehqknb/pseuds/jadehqknb
Summary: Up until now, he’s managed to keep sex and volleyball separate. He’d learned early on, whether they be teammates or rivals, getting involved in any play outside the court with fellow volleyballers was ill-advised. Ok, there’d been Ushijima in university but who could blame him? And they’d remained friends after.Besides, he didn’t know Sawamura would be one of his players at the time and now that he is that’s that.At least, that's what he's telling himself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amaanogawa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaanogawa/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Em! Only a day late but I hope you enjoy this KuroDai, age-gap, attempt at power imbalance but not really treat!

Kuroo makes his way to the gym, anticipation thrumming through his veins. He wonders if this feeling will ever leave, if as he becomes more seasoned, he’ll become numb to the crackle of sparks and breath of fresh air each new crop of first years bring to the court. 

He doubts it. Volleyball buried itself deep into his soul when he was a kid and he’s one of the very fortunate few who get to live and breathe their passion as his profession. Being a full time university coach at his age is definitely an anomaly and he’s vowed to appreciate it every day. 

He’s still a little shocked the university agreed to hire him but Nekomata’s recommendation had been glowing. He’d groomed him for this day, he’d said, knowing that Kuroo’s passion would carry the team further than he had. Kuroo isn’t sure if that’s true but his blood burns with the desire to make good on the faith on that belief. 

It’s with that optimism he enters the gym. Blowing his whistle brings the murmur of excited voices and squeaking shoes to a halt, all eyes turning to him. He scans the faces, a small smirk on his own. It falls away when his eyes meet a pair of warm brown ones he’s seen before. Up close and _very_ personal.

* * *

_When they’d been matched, Kuroo almost thought it was a joke or a glitch. Not that he didn’t have confidence. He wouldn’t use the app if he didn’t think he had what it took to deliver (or receive depending on his preference for the night). But he’d paused at seeing such a youthful face, complete with one adorable dimple, staring back at him from his phone._

_In person, Sweetcheeks’ formerly guileless eyes held heat, an unexpected poise radiating from him as he crawled over Kuroo, pushing him back onto the mattress._

_Kuroo took a moment to appreciate the flex and play of the sculpted biceps bookending his head. The inner thighs pressed against his legs were full and luscious and Kuroo really, really hoped his partner would be into marking… or at the very least some light biting._

_“Planning on having me do all the work? I thought you were Catman-do.”_

_Kuroo’s lips fell into a wicked grin. His hand shot up, grasping the back of the thick neck hovering above him and tugged, drawing their lips close. “You’ve got a smart mouth on you, huh?”_

_Those broad shoulders shrugged, but Kuroo caught the slight tremble of anticipation humming under hot skin. “And if I do?”_

_Kuroo licked his lips, pleased to find those eyes tracking the motion. “I’ll just have to put it to better use then,” he said, voice low. Just before they kissed he asked, “What’s your name?”_

* * *

_Sawamura Daichi._ Fucking, fuck in the fuckery, Kuroo is royally fucked. Staring at Sawamura like he’s seen a ghost, Kuroo swallows thickly. This is bad. This is so, _so_ bad. 

“You ok, Kuroo-san?” Yukie asks quietly. 

With some difficulty, Kuroo retrieves his soul from the ether and shoves it back in his body. Ok, fine. His random hook up from over the weekend is here… looking to join the team. _His_ team. No, he is definitely not ok. 

“Yeah! Fine! Just need my coffee to kick in!” he says, voice definitely higher than it should be.

His eyes land on Sawamura again then dart away, his pulse racing. He has to stay cool. Calm. Collected. 

Sawamura, for his part, looks decidedly unaffected. Kuroo is self-aware enough to admit that’s a bit of a knock to his pride. That and Sawamura does look so nice when he blushes. 

_Not the time Tetsurou._

He clears his throat (and mind) working to focus on the task at hand, namely, being a coach. “So, for those who don’t know, I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, but you can call me coach.” 

There’s a murmur of surprise. He may have heard a gasp from Sawamura but he could also have imagined it because when he looks at him again, he’s just as unruffled as before. “Nekomata’s retirement was a bit sudden, I know, but I have no doubt we can forge ahead to victory. I was, after all, his best student.” He gives a grin, glad to see the team accepting his position without any problem. 

His expression turns serious as he goes on, “Just so we’re clear from the start: university teams are not the same as club sports in high school for newcomers. You have to earn a spot, even on the bench. Don’t make the cut? Don’t make the team. Understand?” 

He waits for the newbies to nod, catching a few brows furrowing and hearing a few gulps sounding. “Ok then. Take two laps to warm up. After stretching, we’ll start drills.” He blows his whistle and they all take off. As they leave, Kuroo can’t keep his gaze from falling on Sawamura, one of the leaders of the pack despite being new. Holding out his hand, he says to Yukie, “Lemme see the applications, please.” 

She hands them to him then moves away to see to her duties of making sure the water bottles are filled and towels are at the ready. Taking a deep breath, Kuroo starts flipping pages. He lets it go when he finds Sawamura’s and reads _Third Year._ He figured he wasn’t a first year but it’s still a relief to confirm it. Reading further he finds he’s a transfer from Miyagi. 

A country boy, huh? So that’s why he’d seemed a little more rugged. Kuroo shakes his head. 

He knows it’s poor form and extremely unlikely, but a small part of him hopes Sawamura isn’t as talented on the court as he is in bed. Which he should not be thinking about right now. Or ever again if Sawamura _does_ end up making the cut. 

By the time the group returns Kuroo is centered. He has a job to do, he can’t fuck up on his first day because of a random fuck whose warm brown eyes are staring at him from among the group of new hopefuls. Not staring, Kuroo has to remind himself, watching. Waiting for him to lead. 

“Well, shall we get started?” Kuroo asks tossing a ball in his hand. 

The resounding cries of enthusiastic assent make him grin. 

At the end of the day it’s apparent Sawamura isn’t a star. It’s equally apparent he has what it takes to make the cut and not just for the bench either. With good receives, strong spikes and a steady presence, he’s a foundation piece, one they need. So it comes as no surprise to Kuroo to receive his name from the team’s captain and vice-captain as one in the front running even after just one day. 

“Good job everyone. You certainly aren’t making narrowing down selection easy.” He gives a few more words of encouragement then dismisses them. 

Sawamura, he notices, heads over to help Yukie to clean the water bottles, drying as she washes. Yukie is smiling then laughing at something he says and when Sawamura smiles in return, Kuroo feels a bloom of renewed appreciation at how handsome he is. 

And that’s a problem. One he’s not sure how to address. Sawamura seems content to just pretend they don’t know each other. Which, they don’t, he supposes. Not really. They were strangers who shared a night in bed together. 

“Sawamura,” he calls before he thinks better of it, “can I see you for a moment before you leave?”

Sawamura nods, saying something to Yukie that she waves away. 

In the fifteen seconds it takes Sawamura to jog to where he stands, Kuroo realizes the complete imbecility of initiating this conversation _here._ He should have offered to walk him to his dorm or talked to him in his office. Maybe that would have been worse.

“Yeah, coach?” Sawamura asks, as if he is completely unaware of exactly why Kuroo called him over. Maybe he is. Maybe Kuroo is making this a much bigger deal than he needs to and if he brings it up, it’s just going to make things worse.

With his face flushed and sweat sticking his hair to his forehead, Kuroo is reminded all too vividly of the last time he saw Sawamura like this. Only then he’d been naked, riding him like a damn pro. 

“Coach?” Sawamura asks again, brow furrowed. “You ok?”

Shit. How long has he been staring? Kuroo doesn’t know what expression he’s making but it’s most likely inappropriate. His throat goes dry. He should just leave it alone. 

The only thing apparently affected by their tryst is Kuroo’s pride and that’s a stupid reason to over complicate their budding coach/player relationship. Because there’s one thing Kuroo knows for certain: Sawamura Daichi will be on his team and Kuroo has to get his shit together. 

Schooling his face into a semblance of respectability he says, “Tomorrow let’s get you working with Oikawa a little more, I want to see what you can really do.” He reaches forward without thought, squeezing Sawamura’s right bicep. “You’ve got quite the cannon, time to hone it.” 

For just a heartbeat, Sawamura looks disappointed. Or maybe Kuroo is projecting because a second later Sawamura is smiling wide, clearly pleased. “Thanks, coach! I’ll see you tomorrow!” He pulls away, leaving Kuroo to stare after him with a burning palm and a rolling mass of anxiety in his stomach. 

_It’s ok. It’s gonna be ok. You can handle this._


	2. Chapter 2

And he does handle it. It was just the shock of seeing his (rather fantastic) one night fuck standing among his first solo group of tryout hopefuls that threw his mind into a tail spin. But a walk home to clear his head and a stern talking to his libido under a cold shower put Kuroo Tetsurou back in control. 

Up until now, he’s managed to keep sex and volleyball separate. He’d learned early on, whether they be teammates or rivals, getting involved in any play outside the court with fellow volleyballers was ill-advised. Ok, there’d been Ushijima in university but who could blame him? And they’d remained friends after. 

Besides, he didn’t know Sawamura would be one of his players at the time and now that he _is_ that’s that. Practices have been going well and their first training camp is right around the corner. 

Things are looking up… until he walks into the locker room and hears Oikawa say, “Sometimes I can’t tell if coach wants to fuck you or fight you, Sawamura.”

Kuroo stops dead in his tracks, snapping his jaw closed. 

“I could take him.”

The room erupts with catcalls and laughter. 

“What, in a fight or his cock?” Bokuto chortles. 

“Both? Both are good,” Sawamura says and Kuroo can hear the grin in his voice. That sets them all off again. 

“I’m serious, guys. Did you see the way he was staring at you during our last water break?” Oikawa pushes.

“Maybe he was thirsty?” Sawamura suggests. His tone is mirthful and light, the trace of a chuckle still rumbling in his chest. 

“Oh, I’ll bet he was,” Terushima quips. 

Someone else chimes in, the ribbing continuing, but Kuroo is lost again in memory, recalling Sawamura’s plump lips wrapped around something most definitely thicker...

* * *

_Kuroo tilted his head back, a satisfied sigh spilling as his jaw slackened. “That’s good baby, so good,” he purred, fingers teasing through short-cropped hair as Sawamura swallowed him down to the root then drew back again, slicking Kuroo’s cock with his spit. His mouth was warm and wet and delightful. “Oh… oh, do that again.” Sawamura complied, wiggling the tip of his tongue back and forth on the underside of the head of his cock. He suckled it next, the suction tight and warm, sending bolts of pleasure up Kuroo’s spine._

_“You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up,” Kuroo warned, only daring to tip his chin back down when he’d pulled Sawamura off him._

_“Kinda the point isn’t it?” Sawamura asked with a crooked smile._

_“It is,” Kuroo agreed slowly, drawing Sawamura up from his knees. He slotted their lips together, teasing the inside of his mouth, nibbling Sawamura’s bottom lip as he drew back. Speaking over the moan it earned him, Kuroo went on, “But I’d much rather fuck you til you’re screaming my name. Then I’ll come, preferably with my cock buried deep in this sweet ass.” He gave a smack to one cheek, keeping his hand against the flesh to squeeze it._

_“As long as you wear a condom, challenge accepted.”_

_“Challenge? You don’t think I can make you scream?” Kuroo asked, a glint in his eyes._

_Sawamura smirked. “I have a good amount of staying power, Kuroo-san. Youth and all that.”_

_Kuroo shoved him to the bed, making Sawamura laugh in surprise at the sudden show of strength. “Oh darling, you may have stamina, but I’ve got plenty of tricks up my sleeve. One of the benefits of age.”_

_Sawamura propped up, capturing Kuroo’s lips in a deep kiss before murmuring against them, “Then show me your ropes, old man.”_

_Kuroo grinned. Guiding Sawamura to his stomach, he kissed his way up his back, nipping his shoulder blades, to his neck. Licking a wide, wet stripe to his ear he growled, “Shame I don’t have my actual ropes with me.” He felt him shiver as the picture took shape in Sawamura’s mind._

_Sliding his hands up Sawamura’s arms, he drew them towards the head of the bed. “Guess you’ll just have to behave and keep your hands to yourself until I say otherwise, brat."_

* * *

“Would you let him? Fuck you up, I mean?” 

Kuroo snaps back to attention. Who asked that? Did he talk like this when he was their age? He hears Sawamura laugh again the sound a little tighter. His brow furrows. Should he step in? 

Before he can decide, Sawamura replies, “Whaddya mean? He fucks us all up every damn day!” 

“Mood,” Iwaizumi grumbles.

“Awww, come’on S’mura! It’s just hypothetical.” 

There’s a pause and then Sawamura responds, “I mean, coach is a snack, who wouldn’t want him, right?” 

There’s another pause, a longer one, and then, “Holy shit, are you serious? What do you have a thing for old guys?”

Kuroo scowls. He is _not_ old, thank you very much. 

“Coach isn’t old,” Sawamura snaps, echoing his thoughts. “He’s probably 31, maybe 32 at the most.” 

There’s a bang of a locker door and Kuroo shuffles back, eager not to be seen. 

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, man. Geez, do you really have it for him or something?” 

“Can we please move on?” Iwaizumi interjects. “Fucking hell, ya’ll are wasting time talking hypothetical dicking down with coach. Weirdos. Let’s get some dinner.” 

Panic overtakes Kuroo sending him rushing into the damn storage closet instead of back outside. But he can’t move again without being caught so he’ll just have to make due. It’s a tight squeeze and he holds his breath as one by one, through the sliver of the door, he watches first Iwaizumi, then Terushima and then Bokuto exit the room, jibbing and elbowing each other as they go.

Oikawa and Sawamura bring up the rear only the latter stops, turning around. “I forgot something, you guys go on ahead, I’ll catch up.” 

Sweat trickles down Kuroo’s neck, tickling him but he doesn’t dare move. Just a few more seconds then he can come out and—

The door is flung open and Kuroo’s held breath spills out in a choked gasp, his heart leaping into his throat. Sawamura stands there, one hand still on the door, the other on his cocked hip, a smug grin on his face. “You’re lucky they have one track minds when they’re hungry, otherwise, this would look really bad.” 

Hand against his chest feeling the pounding of his rapid heart, Kuroo lets out a whoosh of air. “I didn’t mean to, uh, intrude.” 

Sawamura shrugs, but Kuroo doesn’t miss the pinking of his cheeks. “Not like it’s a private room. Locker room talk is cheap, you know that.” 

Kuroo wonders at the dip his heart takes to hear that. He rallies, giving a grin of his own. “Yeah, well, been a while, me being so old and all.” 

“Fishing for compliments? That seems... actually very much like you.” 

Kuroo’s grin becomes less strained and more sincere. He steps closer, but Sawamura doesn’t back away, a challenge in his eyes. It’s one that Kuroo recognizes, has seen dozens upon dozens of times and has _given_ more times than that: _How far can I push you until you snap?_

“You’re staring again,” Sawamura teases, tilting his head up to continue looking at Kuroo right in his eyes. 

“I’m your coach, it’s my job to watch your form. Speaking of which, you’re slouching.”

Sawamura rolls his eyes, ignoring him. “I’d say you watch my form alright, though not _all_ of it has to do with you being my coach, now, does it?” 

Kuroo’s pulse thunders in his ears. He’s never been more pleased to have a height advantage than he is now. Sawamura’s back is to the wall, his breath a little quicker as Kuroo all but cages him in. The heat of his body rises up like tendrils to tease and Kuroo licks his lips, practically tasting the anticipation on his tongue. He leans in closer, fingers teasing the hem of Sawamura’s shirt. “Dinner? Then maybe dessert, if you’re good.” 

Sawamura draws in a deep breath, the harsh glare of the overhead lights shining so brightly in his eyes his gaze burns a hole through Kuroo, melts him in place. 

“Finally,” Sawamura answers, his warm breath puffing over Kuroo’s face and when Sawamura licks his lips Kuroo feels that familiar thirst rise up. 

Only he doesn’t get to take a drink. 

“Sawamura, what’s the holdup?!”

Kuroo darts away from Sawamura like a shot as Iwaizumi flings open the door, the rush of air between them feeling colder than it has any right to given the heat of the night. 

Iwaizumi halts midstep, eyebrows rising to break up the scowl on his face. “Coach? When did you get here?” 

Kuroo tries not to squeak as he replies, “Uh, just now, must have just missed you guys.”

Iwaizumi looks dubious but doesn’t comment. Instead, he surprises Kuroo by asking, “You comin’ to dinner?”

Kuroo figured Iwaizumi would’ve just grabbed Sawamura and run, not invite him to come along. 

“Sounds great, I mean, as long as I don’t cramp your style.” 

Kuroo catches Sawamura’s eye, offering a sheepish grin to his frown. What is he supposed to do? It would look odd, saying they were going to dinner together alone. Especially after the rather colorful conversation Kuroo isn’t supposed to know about. 

Iwaizumi snorts. “You really are an old man.” He grabs Sawamura’s wrist and tugs. “Come on slowpoke, Bokuto has some eating challenge on his mind and I’m not taking him on again.” 

They walk out together, Kuroo behind them, his eyes darting down to where Iwaizumi’s fingers still encircle Sawamura’s wrist. Well, what of it? 

He forces his gaze up. Ahead he can see surprise registering on the other three’s faces at his presence but they all appear amiable enough to his joining them. Oh well, even if it is a bit disappointing not to have one on one time with Sawamura, at least this way he’s still spending time with him. And investing in the other players is a good move too. It’ll be fun, he thinks. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All credit for Daichi Drunkenenss Levels goes to Iggy from our KuroDai server! Thank you for sharing and sharing! :)

It’s not fun. 

Ok, that’s a lie. 

Bokuto is a goofball made of sunshine and pure happiness so not having fun with him is nearly impossible. And listening to Iwaizumi and Oikawa try to one-up each other in their embarrassing childhood story reminiscences is rather entertaining. 

But Sawamura, the demon, has made sure to sit next to Kuroo; _right_ next to him. Their thighs are touching and every time Sawamura laughs Kuroo can feel the vibrations. Occasionally the backs of their hands will brush together and Kuroo curses himself for feeling like a teenager with a crush. 

He’s still reeling from the very real possibility that he and Sawamura were minutes away from a repeat of their first meeting, but that doesn’t mean he should be this affected by innocent touches. But he is and so he nurses his one drink while the guys are already a few pints in. He doesn’t need inebriation heaped on top of temptation, especially in front of other team members. As it is, he’s nearly made the mistake of laying an arm around Sawamura a few times. 

“So then,” Bokuto cuts off with another deep inhale as he works to get his laughing under control, his bright eyes a little glazed over, “Iwaizumi says to the guy, ‘If I had a penis-shaped head, I’d be pissed too.” 

“I don’t sound like that,” Iwaizumi grumbles pushing against Bokuto’s shoulder. 

“Awww, babe, don’t be sad, I like your grumpy deposition.” 

“Disposition,” Oikawa corrects with a giggle. 

“That, too,” Bokuto insists, wrapping an arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulders earning another push but Iwaizumi’s scowl is decidedly softer. 

They all laugh, but Kuroo’s cuts short when he feels a hand on top of his thigh. His gaze flicks down to Sawamura but he’s still looking at Bokuto, a grin on his face. His face is flushed, the tips of his ears a bit redder, and Kuroo wonders if he even realizes where his hand is. Kuroo suppresses a gasp as the hand rides higher, bunching the fabric of his trainers, the material thin enough he feels the burn of Sawamura’s palm against his skin. That or he’s simply hyper-aware of how his touch feels thanks to memories he could really do without right now. 

Before he can decide what to do, Sawamura shifts, pressing more of his body against him. Kuroo looks down at him, unable to hold back his look of surprise, and finds Sawamura’s eyelids drooping. He looks half asleep. 

“Uh, is this normal?” Kuroo asks. His arm twitches with the want to wrap around Sawamura, let him get more comfortable against his chest. 

Iwaizumi hums looking up from his plate then chuckles. “Ah, he’s reached level three.”

“Level three?” Kuroo asks, sweat building on his brow. Is it warm in here? Maybe it’s just the mass of man leaning against him. Scratch that, he’s practically crawled in his lap and suddenly Kuroo doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He knows what he wants to do but an audience prohibits him. 

“Level three of Sawamura drunkenness,” Terushima mumbles, head laid on his crossed arms. “Surprised he reached it already, he’s had, like, two drinks, right?”

“Three,” Iwaizumi amends. He has an unreadable expression on his face looking at Sawamura but Kuroo doesn’t have time to try to decipher it, especially not when Sawamura’s hand lands back on his lap decidedly too close to his crotch. 

“Ah, uh, what’re levels one and two?” Kuroo asks, finally deciding to lay a hand on Sawamura’s back, who arches into the touch, a small sleepy murmur coming out of his mouth. Oh god, how and why is he a cute drunk? 

Terushima raises his head, brows furrowed. He ticks off on his fingers as he lists them. “Level one: trouble maker. He’s not as goody two shoes as he looks. Level two: dancing. With or without music.”

“He didn’t tonight though,” Oikawa whines.

“Level three is this,” Terushima continues nodding towards where Sawamura is clinging to Kuroo still. “Cuddles and clinging. There’s no such thing as personal space when he gets like this.”

“Level four is where you really have to watch him. Horn. Dog.” Bokuto’s grin speaks of personal experience. Kuroo doesn’t like how much he doesn’t like it. 

“And level five is where we all play roshambo to see who has to carry his drunk ass home cause he’s passed the fuck out,” Iwaizumi gripes, clearly having been made a victim of this requirement more than a few times. 

Kuroo’s eyebrows rise. “So you all do this a lot then?” If he sounds judgemental, the others don’t take notice of it. 

“Drink? Of course! It’s college, _coach_. God, are you really that old that you’ve forgotten?” Bokuto laughs. 

“M’ sleepy,” Sawamura mumbles against his shirt. 

Kuroo pats his back. “Let’s get you home then, huh?” 

Terushima and Bokuto protest but shut up when Iwaizumi gives them a glare. He looks tired too, like he didn’t really want to come out so much as he just wanted food but he let them talk him into it. They shuffle out of the booth obediently as Kuroo tries to figure out how to get Sawamura off him without his losing balance. 

“He’s not _that_ gone,” Oikawa assures him, seeing his plight clearly. “He just gets snuggly, he can stand.” 

Kuroo nods. “Alright, Sawamura, time to get you home and into bed.” 

“Are you going to be there too?” Sawamura asks and Kuroo freezes. There’s no way he was the only one who heard him ask that. 

But Bokuto just laughs again. “Level four already? Geez, Sawamura, since when did you stop being able to hold your liquor?” 

“Ok, enough,” Iwaizumi says, “we’ll never get home at this rate.” He steps forward, wraps a hand around Sawamura’s nearest bicep and hauls him to his feet. Kuroo slides out after him, keeping a hand on his back to help steady him; no matter what Oikawa says, Sawamura looks wobbly. 

Sure enough, he takes one step and pitches forward. Iwaizumi makes a startled noise, his other hand slapping against Sawamura’s chest to keep him upright. “What the hell, did someone slip you stronger stuff or something?”

“Jus’ tired,” Sawamura slurs. 

Kuroo looks at the clock. It is rather late and they all worked hard today. He wonders why the amount of food Sawamura put away hasn’t absorbed more of the alcohol, unless he was drinking faster than any of them realized. 

To save time and argument, Kuroo just pays their bill. “Awww, coach, you really love us!” Oikawa sing songs. Draping an arm around Terushima, he adds, “I wanna cuddle too, Teru-chan.” 

“We’re not cuddling idiot,” Iwaizumi snaps, still bearing half of Sawamura’s weight who looks asleep on his feet. 

“I’ll carry him,” Bokuto offers then trips over his own two feet. 

“I got him,” Kuroo insists, hefting Sawamura onto his back like a pack. “Come on, Sawamura, at least try to hold on,” he complains. They’ve fallen behind the tipsy group, the weight of the man on his back nothing he can’t handle but it’s decidedly difficult to walk when he keeps slipping, nearly taking Kuroo’s pants down with him. 

Sawamura manages to get his limbs to cooperate more, his hold a bit more firm, but it’s still slow going. So slow, in fact, Kuroo misses boarding the train, watching with consternation as the fearsome foursome are whisked away into the night. 

“Finally. I wasn’t sure that was going to work,” Sawamura says, suddenly sounding very sober. He taps Kuroo’s shoulder, breath ghosting over his ear as he whispers, “You can put me down now.”

Kuroo lets go fast enough that Sawamura lands rather heavily on his feet. It wasn’t all an act apparently, since Sawamura stumbles, back landing against the pillar behind him but Kuroo still asks incredulously, “You were _faking_ your drunk levels?” He’s not sure whether to be pissed off or impressed. 

Sawamura has no remorse, clicking his tongue and crossing his arms, their tension highlighting the definition of his impressive forearms. “Of course! How else were we going to ditch them?” He tilts his head up, that same gleam of challenge flashing back in his eyes. “I still want dessert and as you know, I'm rather ravenous.” 

Kuroo loses himself in that smolder. His fingers twitch, fists clenching as he works to control himself from pressing against Sawamura to devour that smirk. “So, those good boy country looks really _are_ just for show, huh?”

“Country life is rough, coach. It’s you city boys who can’t keep up.”

“Do me a favor? Don’t call me coach when you’re looking at me like that. It’ll give me a complex during practice and games.” 

“Like you don’t already have one.” 

“Ah yes, that’s true. You, Sawamura Daichi, are decidedly a complication. A rather big one.” 

Sawamura hums, cocking his head to one side. “How about you uncomplicate me, then?” 

Kuroo grins. “Waiting for me to make the first move? I thought you were showing the city boy the ropes.”

“If I recall correctly, ropes were _your_ department, Catman-do.” 

“Hmm… good point. Though you’ve roped me in rather handily, Sweetcheeks.”

“Any more innuendos and I’ll strangle you with one.”

Kuroo laughs. “That’s a whole different kind of kink, Sawamura.” His laughter halts when Sawamura pushes away from the pillar and is suddenly right in his face. 

“You’d be surprised how many kinks I have, Kuroo-san. Care to help me… work them out?” His voice is a low purr as he looks up at Kuroo through long lashes, a coy smile on his face. 

Kuroo stops holding back. He’s not really sure why he’s been restraining himself even this long but there’s just _something_ about Sawamura that makes him want to draw things out, build the tension, get under his skin just as much as he gets under his. But he gives in now, wrapping one arm around Sawamura’s back, his other hand grasping his chin and tilting his head to finally capture those plump lips in a searing kiss. 

Sawamura responds to him beautifully, arms flinging around his neck and going on his toes, lips parting with an eagerness that fuels Kuroo’s hunger. He gives him what he wants, kissing him deeper, digging his fingers into the flesh of his ass. It’s risky, doing this here where, despite the late hour, anyone could see them but Kuroo’s denied himself so long he can’t pull away until his lungs are burning.

Parting for breath, he opens his eyes to find Sawamura’s already on him, staring up at him with an uninhibited want that rushes straight to his cock. “Good thing tomorrow’s a break day,” he murmurs, nuzzle Sawamura’s nose, “because you’re not gonna be able to walk after I’m done with you.” 

“Less talk, more action,” Sawamura pants, slotting their mouths together again. 

Kuroo pulls away, grasping his chin again. “Be. Good. Let’s at least get a room, hmmm?” 

Sawamura nods eagerly, grabbing Kuroo’s hand and pulling him down the street. 

“You’re cute when you’re eager,” Kuroo says, squeezing his hand. 

“Shut up,” Sawamura mutters, looking away but Kuroo doesn’t miss the pinking of his cheeks.


	4. Chapter 4

“Ah~... Kuroo-san… god, fuck!” 

Sawamura looks a dream bound by soft cuffs to the headboard, his head tilted back, jaw slack as Kuroo swallows him again to the root. His cock is thick and heavy on his tongue, the taste of salt skin blessing his taste buds. 

Popping off for a breath, Kuroo purrs, “You taste so good, darling.” He trails his fingertips up the underside of Sawamura’s spit slicked cock, drawing a whimper. “You make such pretty noises for me too.” 

Sawamura’s eyes find his, bright with unshed tears. Kuroo’s edged him… three… maybe four times? He’s lost count, so caught up in the pleasure of teasing and pushing Sawamura to his limit. He looks positively gorgeous, with flush-faced and bitten lips. Only pride keeps him from release and he knows it. 

“You like that don’t you? Me calling you, darling.” Kuroo leans over him, pressing soft teasing kisses to his cheeks, his chin, his nose. “So fucking beautiful, Sawamura, how’d I resist you so long?” He kisses him and Sawamura whines, raising his hips, his red swollen cock grazing against the flat plane of Kuroo’s stomach. Kuroo’s grasps them, pushing him back against the bed and pops off his mouth. “Nope. No coming until you ask, like a good boy. Like we talked about, right?”

Sawamura thrashes against his bonds, a groan of frustration sounding out. 

Kuroo leans down, tonguing the tip of one nipple making him cry out louder. “Come on, Sawamura, you can do it. You can ask nicely.” He bites down and that’s it for the man beneath him. 

“Please, fucking hell, please Kuroo-san!” 

“Please what? Keep biting? Keep sucking your nipples? You have to tell me.” 

“Please let me come. I need to come, pleasepleaseplease,” Sawamura babbles. 

Kuroo hums approval, kissing his way down his stomach. He licks the joint of his hips, first one side and then the other, before swallowing his cock. He bobs his head swiftly a few times then tongues the slit before taking him all the way again. 

“Kuroo… san…” 

Kuroo pops off, looking up to find Sawamura looking down at him. The tears aren’t contained anymore, sliding down his rosy cheeks. “Too much?” he asks. 

“No, I… kiss me? While you… please?”

Surprised, but pleased, Kuroo moves up his body, pausing only to squirt some lube into his palm before wrapping his hand around Sawamura’s cock, as he slots their mouths together. The kiss is filthy, full of tongue and teeth and moans but Kuroo loves it. Sawamura must as well, that or Kuroo really did bring him to the brink too many times because it only takes a few pumps of his hand before Sawamura is moaning loudly against his mouth, coming hard. 

Kuroo works him down carefully, letting him catch his breath. He spoons up close, pressing soft kisses to his face, murmuring between each one, “You did so good, baby. So, so good.” 

Sawamura’s eyes meet his, such a look of fondness in them Kuroo feels his heart leap. “Did you want to fuck me now?” he asks quietly, kissing Kuroo’s jawline. 

Kuroo swallows thickly. “You won’t be too sensitive? That was a lot.” 

“I want you,” he admits softly. And then even lower adds, “I want you all the time.” 

Kuroo rolls on top of him, caressing his lips gently over Sawamura’s. “I want you too, so, so much,” he confesses. 

“But only for tonight?” Sawamura asks, carding his fingers through Kuroo’s hair. 

Kuroo captures the hand and presses a kiss to its palm. “No. Always.”

“Why?” Sawamura asks unexpectedly. 

Kuroo looks in his eyes, surprised to see significant doubt there. He cups his face. “Because you’re kind-hearted and strong-willed. Because you’re funny and silly and adorable. Because you’re everything I want, gift wrapped in the body of an adonis.” 

Sawamura chuckles, pulling him into another kiss. “Sap,” he mutters against his mouth.

“Brat,” Kuroo returns, biting his lower lip.

Sawamura’s eyes meet his again. “But can we really be together? I mean, the team…” 

Kuroo takes a deep breath. “Honestly? It would probably be better if we waited until you graduate before we… make things official.” He sighs. “Better if we wait until then before doing anything like this again, too.” 

Sawamura takes in a deep shuddering breath. “Don’t find anyone else, in the meantime, ok?”

“You’re the one with options,” Kuroo teases.

“Having options is how you found me,” Sawamura replies, serious. “But I only want you.” His open, raw honesty stalls the chuckle in Kuroo’s mouth. 

“Best news I’ve heard all year.”

Then he kisses him again, taking his time, slow and steady, to pull him apart more gently, and put him back together just as softly. Because tomorrow they go back to coach and player, to holding back until such time as they can release their passion without fear of repercussions. 

The thought isn’t exactly welcome, but Kuroo can’t help the small part of him that looks forward to the challenge. He has a feeling he’ll face a lot of those dating Sawamura, but he’s up for whatever comes his way. 

Later, as Sawamura lies pillowed on his chest, breath caressing his skin in his deep sleep, Kuroo unlocks his phone and deletes the hookup app. He won’t be needing it anymore. 

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to itsairybro and stacysmash for all their help while I bitched, moaned and cried my way through this.


End file.
